Eyepatch
by atelophobic-errorist
Summary: Hello, my name is Tatiana, but you may call me Lili. I'm also known as "freak," "weirdo," and, most commonly, "The girl with the eyepatch." Russia/OC. Will be changed to M later.
1. Chapter I

**Hello everyone! Yes, I'm starting a new Hetalia OC story. And I know you all are thinking, "Good GOD McKenzie, how many of these things are you gonna make?"**

 **Well, the answer to that question is, dear reader, a shit-ton.**

 **Anyway, this story will be filled with depression, attempted suicide, drama, and loads of other stuff.**

 **Really different than the other crap I write so yay.**

 **Anyway, let's start!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

 **. . .**

 _Eyepatch_

 _Chapter I_

Hello. My name is Tatiana, but refer to me as Lili, if you may.

I'm the good ol' age of 17, and you bet I have the normal life of a teenage girl; lots of friends, stress of prom and graduation, and the perfect family and boyfriend, right?

Well, you're dead fucking wrong.

I'm different than the average teenage girl, or a "freak" as they would call me.

You see, I don't have the perfect life. A horrible one, to be honest.

Up until I was eleven, my life was great: I had friends, a loving family, and, I admit it, I was spoiled by my parents.

Then the accident happened.

One day, my mother, my father, my younger sister, and I were driving home from my grandmother's house.

My father was driving, my younger sister was playing with her dolls, and my mother was looking my way with her warm smile.

That smile still haunts me to this day.

Then, out of nowhere, I heard a crash, and then darkness.

 **. . .**

What I assume was a while later, I opened my eyes, and saw a scene that would haunt my nightmares forever.

Our car was flipped to the side, and I saw my father's body sprawled onto to the street, with glass poking out of his body, with a pool of blood surrounding him.

My mother's face was pressed against the bloody and slightly flat airbag, with blood oozing out of her mouth, and a large piece of glass stabbed into her lung.

And my little sister...

It brings tears just thinking about it.

Her neck was broken, with a pool of blood covering her body, and a extremely large shard of glass wedged into her neck.

Then, with the tears blurring my vision, I noticed I could open both eyes, but I could only see through one.

That's when I saw a white, bloody sphere on the ground.

Filled with curiosity, I picked it up.

I don't even remember why I did that...

When I took a closer look at it, I gasped.

It was my eye.

My trembling hand went to were that eye should be, only finding an empty socket.

From shock, I passed out.

 **. . .**

When I woke up, I was in a hospital, with a doctor looking at me with concerned eyes.

That reminded me about my missing eye...

The doctor told me that my family was in a car wreck, because a drunk driver hit us.

Out of my entire family, I was the only survivor.

She also told me that I, indeed, lost my eye from the accident. They attempted to reattach it, and many hours of surgery later, there was nothing they could do.

My hand flew to my missing eye, the left one, but I could only feel the lumpy, moist bandage covering it.

I burst into tears, only feeling them flowing down my face from the right side.

 **. . .**

Many months of counseling and talking to multiple therapists later, I began to feel a little better. _I guess talking about it really does help_ , I thought at the time.

Well, you could say I was half-right.

According to my parents' will, they left the house and their life savings to me and my sister, and my father leaving all of his belongings to me, and the same with my mother and sister.

Apparently, since I was the only daughter now, all of the things that belonged to both of my parents were mine.

I felt kind of guilty taking all of my parents' precious belongings, but the rabbi said it was, "What your parents would have wanted."

Yes, I'm Jewish. You can laugh at me all you want, I don't care.

At least, not anymore...

Anyway, I decided that I was going to buy myself a new home, or at least, a decent apartment. It's not that I don't want to live in my old home (I decided not to sell it), I just... feel guilty about the accident.

After a lot of home searching, I settled on this nice, fifteen-thousand dollar double-wide in the United States.

And yes, if you guessed, I'm not American either, I'm actually Russian, but I was living in Israel at the time.

Anyway, back on topic, when I was getting ready to move (I was fourteen at the time, by the way), I was looking through my father's things, until I found a beautiful eyepatch.

See, my father was a huge fan of pirates. And I mean huge. He had many pirate-themed items, from real metal hooks to wooden peglegs, you name it, he had it.

This eyepatch was different than you see in movies and books and all that shit.

The patch was made from soft, black cloth, and instead of one cord connecting the cloth from one side to the other, it had two. One cord started at the top right corner, ending at the top left, and the other doing the same with the bottom right to the bottom left.

Fighting back my tears, I decided to preserve my father's-no, my whole family's- legacy by wearing this eyepatch.

All day, all night.

No matter what.

 **. . .**

After I moved to my home in America, life became even harder for me.

Like it wasn't hard enough. Thanks Fate.

When I enrolled in school, I was bullied because of my heavy accent (Russian, remember?), and my eyepatch.

I realized that my parents' life savings of thirty-thousand dollars (I spent fifteen on my house) wasn't gonna last me forever, so I got a job as a waitress at a fancy Italian restaurant. And, believe it or not, I actually got pretty good pay.

But I think it was because of my shitty life story.

The manger, a pretty woman named Isabella, heard my story, and I'm pretty sure her heart shattered into a million pieces.

Isabella was really nice to me, and she even told me that she lost her family too, her parents and twin brother, in a plane crash.

So we had something to relate to.

With my housing, I figured out that living on your own wasn't that hard, once you get the hang of it.

But it sucks waking up to an empty house everyday.

While I was going to school, I met a girl named Kyrstal, who could kind of relate to me.

She had curly, blood red hair (that she dyed, apparently) that went to her hips, glasses, and ocean blue eyes.

In my sophomore year, she approached me at lunch and greeted herself as the transfer student from France. Surprisingly, we hit it off.

She was bullied too, here and at her old school, but I didn't know why.

She was much prettier than me, and she had an elegant accent. She told me that she thought she was bullied here and at her old school was because she was a huge bookworm.

That I could relate to. I was a bookworm too, and, apparently, the average teenager hates them like hell.

Kyrstal was my closest friend, well, my only friend, until she had to go back to France during junior year.

We still kept in touch by Skype and email, but it wasn't the same.

After she left, I began cutting. I don't know why, but seeing the blood pouring out of my wrists just feels so much better.

Hell, I admit it, I even attempted suicide a couple times, so I could be be with my family again, but they all failed.

I guess Fate really hates me, huh?

After graduation (Kyrstal and I were able to graduate a year early because of advanced grades), Kyrstal moved to America and into an apartment, so we could see each other again.

It felt really good to see her in the flesh after all these years.

She also encouraged me to apply for a college, so I sent a application for Auburn University.

A couple weeks later, I got a letter back, and it took all of my courage to open it.

Too bad it was an declination letter.

Kyrstal comforted me for a while after that. I feel kinda bad for her, because she puts up with my shitty ass self so much already.

What I didn't know was that I was gonna get a letter a couple months later that would change my life forever.

 **. . .**

 **And that's chapter one! You all better fucking enjoy it, because it took me two days and constant plot bunny escapes to write this.**

 **AND IT'S ONLY CHAPTER FUCKING ONE!**

 **Well, anyway, if Lili's backstory made you burst into tears, please forgive me.**

 **See you guys in the next chapter!**


	2. Chapter II

**Hey guys! It's time for a new chapter! I don't have anything else to say (for once), so lets start!**

 ** _Reviewer Replies_**

 ** _Lavendor Queen: I know, so do I. God, I'm a terrible person...I'm so going to hell when I die...oh well._**

 _ **Warning: This chapter contains self-harm, child abuse, and mentions of depression. If you are depressed or have/had suicidal thoughts and/or often get offended by topics like this or related things, I recommend you leave now. If you wish to stay, then proceed with caution.**_

 **Disclaimer: I am not the owner of Hetalia (which sucks :c).**

 **. . .**

 _Eyepatch_

 _Chapter II_

When I opened my eye, I saw nothing, just...pure darkness.

 _What...the hell? Where am I?_ I thought, perplexed.

"Hello...?" I said, stupidly hoping someone would answer me.

 _"It's your fault!"_

My eye widened at the sound of a familiar voice. I looked to my right and saw a very painful memory.

It was me, a younger me, when I was twelve, and my aunt, my mother's sister, giving my crying, younger self a death glare.

 _"It's all your goddamn fault!"_ She yelled down to young me, on the verge of tears herself.

 _"W-what do you m-mean, тетя?"_ Young me asked through tears.

Alyona (my aunt, which is what I refer to her as now) slapped young me, hard, across the face. _"Don't you dare call me that! You don't deserve to call me your тетя!"_ She spat. _"It's your fault that my sister, brother-in-law, and my only good niece are dead! You should have died, not them!"_

Young me started sobbing loudly and violently while Alyona sent more nasty words her way.

After my family died, I was sent into Alyona's care. When she found out about the death of my family, she was crushed. She became cold and emotionless, and began drinking heavily. She never paid me much attention, but this was the first (and only) time she did this. What young me didn't know was that Alyona was drunk then.

Back into my flashback, she said the exact same words I have been trying not to follow all these years. _"You should just kill yourself, Tatiana! Nobody wants you around and nobody gives a shit about you!"_

Hearing those words for a second time pierced my heart like a knife.

Young me looked up at her, shocked and hurt. _"W-what...?"_

Alyona slapped young me hard again, making the bandage around my eye loosen and fall off. _"You heard me, you little whore!"_

Those were the last words I heard before I passed out, both young me and present me.

 **. . .**

I woke up covered in cold sweat. I shot up and looked at my surroundings. _It was just a dream..._

I pulled my legs to my chest and hugging them like my life depended on it. I thought about Alyona's words again:

 _"You should just kill yourself, Tatiana! Nobody wants you around and nobody gives a shit about you!"_

I started crying quietly, thinking of all the people who wouldn't want me around.

 _Alyona doesn't care about me...neither does those girls that used to bully me...but I don't give a shit about them either...but my family...мама...папа...сестра...they probably hate me too...even in the afterlife..._

I was able to come to my senses long enough to realize that my suicidal self was trying to manipulate me.

See, I actually have a spilt-personality, but she lives in my conscience and never comes out, or shows herself. Since she's my suicidal side, I call her Mental Lili.

I slapped myself in the face, ignoring the sharp sting coming from my right cheek. _Fuck off!_ I told her, _I don't give a shit what you think._

 _ **I'm just trying to tell you the truth, Tatiana.**_ She said back, _**You need to accept the fact that barely anybody cares if you live or die.**_

 _Krystal cares about me! So does Isabella! They're all I need. And you don't need to brainwash me into killing myself, you bitch._

 _ **Whatever.**_

I sighed and looked at the clock on my bedside table. _11:30 am,_ it read. _It's late._ I thought. I got up and out of bed and walked to my closet. I opened it and got out a black Three Days Grace t-shirt, white underwear and a matching bra, and dark green Call of Duty sweatpants.

After I got my clothes, I walked to my bathroom. I stripped out of my night clothes and took off my eyepatch and ran my shower water.

As I marinated in my cold water, I thought about what Mental Lili told me.

 _ **I'm just trying to tell you the truth, Tatiana. You need to accept the fact that barely anybody cares if you live or die.**_

My eyes glanced to the blood-stained razor blade on the rack hanging from the wall of my shower. My trembling hand slowly reached for it, ignoring my brain's screaming protests.

I finally got it and held it in my hand. I slowly inched it toward my left wrist, literally feeling Mental Lili smirking in my head.

The blade finally met my wrist, and I slowly moved it across it, seeing the blood pouring out of the wound.

When I saw the blood, my heart lightened up a bit, and I smiled. Not a psychotic smile, but a calm one, the kind that can make your day.

I wasn't about to kill myself, though. I just cut when I feel really depressed, like now.

After I finished that wrist, I did the same to the other, and finally worked on my hygiene.

When I finished my shower, I changed, put my eyepatch back on, and started brushing my long, dark hair.

I should probably enlighten you about my appearance. I have long, waist-length, pitch black hair, with two streaks in the front being dark blue, light skin, and forest green eyes, whoops, excuse my slip up, a forest green eye.

When I finished brushing the rat's nest stuck to my head, I pulled it into a high, sloppy ponytail, leaving my dyed streaks hanging free.

I picked up my sweat-drenched clothes and walked out of the bathroom, where I was met with-

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LILI!"

"AHH!" I screamed, dropping the clothes I was holding.

-a certain psycho named Krystal.

I picked my clothes and said, very agitated, "Goddamnit Kyrstal, how many times did I tell you to stop sneaking into my house?"

"You can never keep me away, dear Lili." She answered in a way that a business woman would in a meeting. She continued, "By the way, I broke your window when I came in."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I'll pay for it, I promise." She answered.

I sighed. "You better. And since you broke my window on my goddamn birthday, you have to do my laundry." I told her, shoving my dirty clothes into her arms.

She grimaced. "Eww...they're all sweaty...but isn't your window enough?"

"Nope." I called back to her while I was walking down the stairs. I heard her sigh and mutter a "fine" before she walked the opposite way that I did.

I plopped down onto my couch and turned on some episode of "Ghost Adventures" while I waited for Kyrstal to do my laundry. I looked to where my door was and saw a broken window to the right of my door. _So she really did break my window. Awesome._

About halfway through the episode, I saw Kyrstal walk down the stairs and plop down on the couch next to me.

"Your damn laundry's done." She said, annoyed.

Being the smartass that I am, I smilied and answered, "Thank you, dearie."

"So..." Krystal said, sitting up straight and being serious (for once), "what are you plannin' to do today, Lili?"

I shrugged and answered, "Probably sit around and play Halo and shit."

She got angry with my answer. "Oh, nonononono. No. Lili, you don't turn eighteen every day. We have to do something awesome!" She retorted, lecturing me at first and cheering with the last sentence.

"We'll see." I said, turning my attention back to the TV.

"By the way, I got your mail, too." She said, pulling my mail out of nowhere.

"Thanks." I said, taking it from her.

I started going through my mail. "Shit, shit, bill, shit, another bill, shit..."

Then I saw the last letter. I read the from address, "'World Academy, Washington, D.C., USA...' D.C.? The fuck?" I asked nobody in particular.

Krystal looked at the letter. "Why don't you read it?" She asked.

I rolled my eyes and opened the letter, and started reading it silently to myself:

 _Dear Miss Malykhin,_

 _We are very pleased to tell you that you have been accepted into our school, World Academy. Our school specializes in teaching our specially selected students into being successful representatives of their countries or capitals. We are sending you this letter to inform you that we have looked over your file, and have chosen you to be the capital of your home country, Russia. It is an extremely rare opportunity to be chosen as a capital. Capitals are only chosen every eight years, so this is your lucky year! Enclosed is your ID card, containing your needed information. Everything else you will need will be given to you on April 16th, the beginning of your first semester. We hope to see you then, Miss Moscow!_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Headmasters and Staff of World Academy_

I blinked, trying to process this information. _I've been accepted into a college, but I'm the representative of Moscow!? And why the fuck are these people I don't even know looking over my private fucking information?!_

"Um...Lili, you're looking kinda pale...and kinda pissed..." Kyrstal said, worried and kind of scared.

I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard her voice. "Sorry Kris, but this is a lot of info to process in one day..." I answered, turning my attention back to the letter.

"Let me see." She said, holding her hand out.

I handed her the letter so she could read it. After a couple minutes, she blinked and said, "Holy shit."

"That was my exact reaction." I joked.

"This is pretty cool, though!" She said, "You're the capital of Russia!"

"I guess you're right." I said, looking at my ID that I pulled out of the envelope. It showed a small picture of me and it said:

 _Name: Tatiana "Lili" Malykhin_

 _Birthdate: April 7th, 1997_

 _Age: 18_

 _Place Of Birth: Moscow, Russia_

 _Current Residence: Seattle, Washington, USA_

 _Country/Capital: Moscow_

 _Capital Of: Russia_

 _Known Languages: Russian (Native Language), Hebrew, English, French_

 _Religion: Jewish_

 _Sexual Orientation: Demisexual_

 _Okay, what the fuck!? Did they seriously have to put my sexuality on here?_ I thought angrily, feeling my face heat up.

"...I didn't know you were demisexual." I heard Kyrstal say awkwardly next to me.

"S-shut up!" I said, embarrassed.

"Eh, it's fine." She replied casually. "That letter said you had to be in D.C. by the 16th, right? Then you better start packing!" She said before practically jumping off my couch and running up the stairs.

 _She's right,_ I thought, _I have to be there by the 16th. Today's the 7th, so I have a little over a week to pack..._

I still couldn't believe I was the representative of Moscow. I started freaking out. _Oh shit, what if I fuck up? Ohgodohgodohgod I can't do this..._

Oh, how wrong I was...

 **. . .**

 **Good God...that took forever...at least I finished writing this chapter without dying from overworking myself...thank the Lord...**

 **I think I did horrible on the letter part. I. Am. So. Sorry! I've never been in college or been accepted into one (hell, I'm not even _old _ enough to be in college...*sweatdrops*), so if I totally epic failed on that part, please have mercy on my soul.**

 **Translations**

 **Russian**

 _тетя (pronounced tetya) - aunt_

 _мама (pronounced mama) - mama_

 _папа (pronounced papa) - papa_

 _сестра (pronounced sestra) - sister_

 **If I got any translations wrong, please let me know so I can fix them. Anyways, see you guys in the next chapter!**


End file.
